


Downward

by silence_since_silence



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hair Brushing, Hiking, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Inaccuracies, Romanticism, Search and Rescue, Trees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-02-27 12:55:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2693762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silence_since_silence/pseuds/silence_since_silence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur and friends find an injured man in the woods.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kriadydragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kriadydragon/gifts).



> Kriadydragon, I hope this looks something like what you were hoping for. Happy Merlin Holidays!
> 
> Thanks to my readers L and B for all you did. Thanks to M, L, H, S, and C for the cheerleading and for listening to the idea over and over during these past weeks. It was all completely necessary and immensely helpful.
> 
> Some thanks should also go to the people in the 15 Minute Word Wars thread on the NaNoWriMo website with whom I spent many an hour. Thank you all for existing.
> 
> Thanks to the mods for running this fest! And thanks to the mods for being very awesome and lovable. :D
> 
>  **Additional Warnings:** Landslide/mudslide. Reference to past minor unnamed character death.
> 
> Do not use this story as an example of what to do in the event that you find yourself injured. I am no physician, healer, or doctor. Seek professional medical attention for your injuries.
> 
>  _Merlin_ characters belong to BBC and Shine. No copyright infringement is intended. I make no profit from this endeavor.

Merlin is surrounded by the familiar sights and sounds of his favorite trail. There is foliage in every direction except beneath him where there is, in fact, a well-beaten footpath.

He knows that just ahead, a few minutes of walking from his current point on the trail, he will step into a clearing from which he will be able to look over the tree tops around him and see a panoramic view of the mountain range he so greatly loves.  
  
Merlin walks through the familiar woods with his backpack weighing down his shoulders and his sunglasses blocking the glare of the over-bright day. He walks past the trees with their familiar hollowed-out, fire-damaged trunks. He walks past that one oak that looks like a stooped old man with a cane. He can’t stop himself from looking up at the branches that are full of needles and empty of leaves. He marvels at the way the sunlight shines through the branches and the needles of the trees; it at once makes him feel an overwhelming, hollow emptiness as well as complete joy in regards to the vastness and reality of nature, life, and death. He becomes so consumed with these feelings that his eyes fill with tears. His eyes hold the tears so that they never fall down his face.

It is because of the way that these tears of both pain and joy block his vision that Merlin does not see that the ground that he is so familiar with has recently changed due to a rain-induced mudslide. The path beneath his feet drops away from him suddenly, and he can find neither purchase on the loose earth nor a strong root to grab onto before he comes to a stop at the bottom of the hill. One of his legs is buried under dirt and rocks, and his opposite shoulder (and arm and ear) are lying in a pool in the swiftly moving creek that the contents of the original mudslide had fallen into and partially blocked.

Merlin pulls his head all the way above the water to look back up the hill. He sees that some of the bright blue material of his jacket has torn off about half-way up the hill.

From the angle he is at, the mudslide area looks like more of a mountain than a hill. He must have rolled down at least forty-five feet on that loose dirt.

As he looks, he becomes increasingly dizzier. His vision goes dark, and the next thing he knows is the feeling of little waves moving against his cheek. Merlin can’t lift his head more than a centimeter before he feels pain shoot up his back to his skull. This is probably a sign of something serious. Merlin decides not to move his head any more than is necessary, even if he _is_ worried about some tiny fish swimming into his left ear.

He decides instead to reach for the right-hand side pocket of his backpack beneath him to get to his – fortunately out of the water – mobile phone so he can call for help. It hurts his back a little when he moves his arm, but it isn’t unbearable. Understandably, what worries him more is that he can’t make two of his fingers grasp the zipper of the pocket. He lifts his arm up to inspect the damage and finds that his first two fingers are bent at a different angle than usual. It also worries him that there seems to be a gash on his arm that is big enough to cause it to be covered in blood. At least he can still move his arm; nothing seems to be dislocated.

Merlin knows that he needs to get out of this situation. He hopes that he will be able to get emergency service on his phone once he is able to reach it.

First he needs to get himself out from under this mound of dirt.

There is nothing to grab onto above his head, so he puts his right palm against the ground and his left arm and loose left leg against the dirt he is under and tries to push his body out that way.

His back and arm are not in favor of this plan.

He blacks out.


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur, Elyan, Mithian, Leon, and Daegal, a group of army-turned-camping buddies, are hiking to the campsite of this month’s location of their bi-monthly group camping trip when they see that the path ahead has fallen away.

“Let’s look for a way across,” Arthur suggests to the other four members of his old army unit. They are all trained in crossing difficult terrain, and he is certain they will be able to meet this challenge. They approach with caution since none of them want to take a tumble.

Elyan and Daegal hang back a ways from the other three so they can look over the edge of the hill path without disturbing loose earth with their weight. Elyan is the first to see the unusual color halfway down the landslide.

“What is that?” he asks Daegal.

“It looks like part of one of those puffy winter jackets,” Daegal answers.

Elyan becomes concerned. Who would leave part of their puffy winter jacket halfway down a landslide by choice? It is more likely that someone went down with the dirt. Elyan’s eyes track down to the flooding stream at the base of the hill.

“There’s someone down there!” Elyan’s alarmed shout has all of the others looking at where he points. There is an unmoving figure half-buried by dirt and rocks at the base of the hill, and part of the figure is lying in a stream caused by snowmelt from the nearby mountains.

“We need to get down there,” Mithian says. “Leon, call for emergency help.”

Leon pulls out his phone and dials the number. The call disconnects before he hears any ringing, but he loses several seconds of valuable rescue time waiting for a ring before he notices that nothing is happening.

 “I have to walk back along the path a ways to find better service,” Leon informs them.

 “Okay. Elyan, go with him to keep each other safe, just in case,” Arthur, who was the group’s commanding officer when they were still in active service, says.

“We’ll be back as soon as we can,” Elyan says as he follows Leon back the way they came.

Arthur and Mithian work to tie their longest rope securely to the sturdiest-looking tree they can find. Mithian goes down first, followed by Daegal and then Arthur.

Daegal is the only one of the five of them with proper medical training, so he is the first to pick his way across the wet, leaf-strewn ground toward the body.

Daegal finds a clear path on the edge of the stream. All he has to combat are slippery leaves, fallen branches from the trees above, and tree roots that have become slick from rain and close proximity to the splashing stream. He makes his journey to the figure – they can all see that it is definitely a human body from their new, closer positions at the bottom of the hill – quickly and carefully. He does not want to jeopardize the safety of this person, if they are still alive, or the ability of his group to function well if his group were to have to tend to him because he accidentally hurt himself while trying to reach the figure under the landslide.

Daegal approaches the body after slipping only a little. (At least he hadn’t tripped on any roots.)

“It’s a young man!” he calls back over the sound of the rushing water to Arthur and Mithian. He checks for a pulse in the man’s neck and finds it. “He is alive, but he’s cold! Come over here, you two! I will need your help with this: he’s unconscious!”

Arthur and Mithian drop their backpacks to the ground where they are standing. Arthur follows Mithian as they take the same path at the stream’s edge that Daegal took.

“What is the rest of your assessment?” Mithian asks Daegal as soon as she and Arthur catch up to his position.

“He is unconscious, but his pulse is not diminished. Because he has been partially submerged in this cold stream, his body temperature has dropped. We will need to make sure that he hasn’t developed hypothermia, and that he _doesn’t_ develop it before Leon’s call brings professional medical attention to him.”

“We’ll have to keep him warmer with our own body heat, if it comes to that,” Arthur states.

Daegal nods an affirmation and continues: “I want to get him out from under this rock pile and out of the water, but I don’t want to move him in case he has any spinal injuries. We could really use a stretcher right about now.”

“What if we shift some of this rock off of his leg but leave him exactly where he is? Will that help?” Mithian asks.

“Do you think it can be done without sending the loose dirt crashing down on all of us?” Daegal queries.

“I think so,” Arthur replies. “We can prop a tent canvas up above him so that anything that might come loose above us all doesn’t knock us on the head.”

“Okay,” Daegal says. “At the very least we should get the pressure of the weight of the hill off of his leg.”

Arthur and Mithian set up the tent shield before they begin to move in small increments the dirt and rocks from on top of the man’s leg. Daegal continues to check over the body.

“These fingers are broken,” Daegal says aloud. He makes a tutting sound under his breath as he tries to find the source of the bleeding on the man’s right arm. He thinks now that the torn-off part of the jacket that caught Elyan’s eye on the hill, which clearly came from the right sleeve, has made his task a little easier.

He finds the source of the bleeding. The gash is long and too deep for comfort. Daegal sets his pack that has remained on his back this whole time down on the bank of the stream and starts to shuffle through his supplies. He pulls out a water bottle that he will use to wash the wound, and he locates some antiseptic. He also pulls out all the gauze that he brought with him in his first aid kits. He notices that there isn’t enough gauze to wrap this injury up satisfactorily, so he starts to rip up a spare clean undershirt in long strips. _Any_ form of clean bandage will have to suffice until this arm can get proper stitches; Daegal isn’t going to let the cut get infected if he can prevent it.

“That doesn’t look right,” Daegal hears Arthur say to Mithian.

“What is it?” Daegal asks as he looks back at them over his shoulder. He stands up when he sees that they have stopped shifting the dirt to look at the man’s leg. He walks over. They have uncovered the leg, but it is definitely bent at an odd angle.

“That’ll need to be set. Maybe we won’t have to do it,” Daegal says. “Arthur, come help me with his arm.”

Arthur and Daegal grab up the supplies for the man’s arm, situate themselves next to the man so that neither of them will get wet, and begin to run the clean water over the wound. The man’s face draws together slightly in response to the pain, but he does not wake. Arthur holds the arm up above the muddy bank until Daegal is satisfied with how clean the cut is. Arthur is adequately disgusted by how much of the inside of the man’s arm he can see, but Daegal quickly spreads the antiseptic on the gauze as he wraps the arm.

“There. It’s secure,” Daegal states. “Arthur, I need you to keep holding it up out of the mud and water for now until he can be moved away from the creek. The gauze will only suck up the water and keep it close to his skin, and if the wound gets infected it may be very dangerous for him.”

“Okay, I’ll just stay here for a while, then,” Arthur replies. He looks down at the man’s face and wonders how the man managed to get into this situation.


	3. Chapter 3

Mithian and Daegal discuss Leon and Elyan’s whereabouts as they get some drinking water for themselves. Arthur stays in place with the man’s arm in his hands and his own arms resting on his knees.

Arthur stares down at the unconscious man until he hears Mithian’s shoes shift the dirt as she comes up beside him.

“Arthur? You’re looking a little lost,” she observes. When he doesn’t answer, she continues with, “he’ll come ‘round, Arthur. Daegal said his pulse is fine, and even if he has lost a lot of blood from that gash on his arm it’s not like he is _deathly_ pale. It looks like most of that is his natural skin tone, anyway. We’ll get him the help he needs. This isn’t like—”

“I know, Mithian. This is a different situation entirely, and his chances are very different. I just wonder what he was doing out here alone. It’s not like this is a short hike.... Sorry,” Arthur says when he realizes his voice has been rising steadily. “Sorry, I just don’t like to see anyone hurt.”

Mithian puts her hand on Arthur’s shoulder and squeezes. She sighs. “You’re a good man, Arthur.”

They look down at the man together for another moment until they hear voices from the hill above them.

Elyan makes his way down the hill with the same rope that Mithian, Arthur, and Daegal used.

Leon stays on the path above them.

“We got in contact with emergency services and the ranger’s office,” Elyan says once he is on the ground with them. “They’ve sent a helicopter with a paramedic. It should arrive within the next—” he checks his watch— “half hour or so. What’s going on with the person? Are they okay?”

“We have him bandaged up a little, but he’s broken up pretty badly. He’s unconscious now, as he was when we got to him,” Daegal replies. “Arthur is watching over him for changes.”

Elyan looks over to where Arthur is watching the man’s face without blinking. Under his breath, Elyan says to Daegal, “Do you think that’s wise?”

“Arthur is still an excellent soldier, Elyan,” Daegal replies quietly. “He can handle this. Anyway, it is far better for him to be doing something useful.” He pauses, and then says, “Maybe it will be good for him.”

Elyan nods shortly. “Well then. Leon is making a signal up on the trail for the helicopter. The ranger we spoke to suggested the visual aid in case the coordinates we were able to give them proved not to be enough for them to find us.”

Mithian responds with a snort. “I wonder what design he’s drawing.”

Elyan and Daegal chuckle at her implication.

“I am sure it will be appropriate to the situation, Mithian,” Elyan says, but he is still laughing.

“Daegal!” Arthur calls from his place beside the man.


	4. Chapter 4

Daegal looks over to see Arthur with his left hand holding the man’s head still. He walks over immediately.

“Shh, you’re going to be fine, try not to move,” Arthur is saying when Daegal approaches. The man grunts lightly as his eyes flicker open.

“Hmm?” he asks when his crossed eyes finally focus on the two unfamiliar faces staring down at him. “Who’re you?”

“I’m Daegal,” Daegal says, “and this is Arthur.” He gestures at Arthur. “I’m a medic who happened to be passing by with my friends. Arthur and I have bandaged your arm. I am afraid the rest of your injuries are too complicated for me to do anything about while we are here in the middle of nowhere and while all I have with me are a few first aid kits. We’ve called Search and Rescue, and a helicopter is on its way. Do you understand?”

“Mhm,” the man replies.

“Good. Now, can you tell me your name?”

“’S Merlin. M’ name’s Merlin.”

“Hi, Merlin. It’s nice to meet you.” Daegal smiles. “Do you know how you got to where you are?”

“Fell,” Merlin replies.

Daegal smiles again. “Can you tell me about your injuries? Where are you hurt?”

Merlin looks away from Daegal’s face and up the part of the hill that he can see around the edge of the canvas that is above him. He stares at the landslide but doesn’t answer Daegal’s question.

“Merlin?” Arthur addresses him directly for the first time. Arthur’s voice is quiet. Merlin’s eyes track back to meet Arthur’s. Arthur’s face is full of worry.

Merlin takes a breath.

“I was awake when I fell. Noticed that my fingers are broken. Blood on my arm from a cut. My leg doesn’t feel right, but I couldn’t get it out from under the ’slide. My left shoulder and arm have gone numb. I think a tiny fish swam into my ear.... And...” Merlin sighs with feeling even though he can’t take a very deep breath. “And there’s something wrong with my back, I think, because it hurts when I try to move, and when I tried to push myself out from under the dirt I passed out.”

When Merlin finishes listing off everything he can remember, he sees that Daegal looks pensive.

Daegal says, “Okay. Like Arthur said before, try not to move. As I said, a Search and Rescue team is on the way here. They will have a stretcher to strap you into. I’ll bring one of our packs over to help prop up your left side so none of us has to stand knee-deep in that water, and, Arthur, you stay where you are for the right arm. Be back in a minute.”

He walks away to go to the backpacks. After a moment, Merlin can hear some shuffling and thunking.

“What’s the noise?” Merlin asks Arthur.

Arthur looks over to where Daegal is pulling things out of their packs. “He’s going to put most of the clothes off to the side so he can fill just one pack with everything we have that is waterproof or that will dry quickly.” Arthur looks back at Merlin only to be met with a funny expression. He tries to interpret that expression and then says, “Don’t worry; I’m sure he’ll put something soft at the top so you’ll be nice and comfortable.”

Merlin looks at the slight smirk on Arthur’s face, realizes Arthur is making fun of him, and rolls his eyes.

“Have some respect. I’m injured, here.” Merlin’s aim was levity, but he sees Arthur’s face droop just a little and thinks he may have missed the mark. Why, though? “Hey, I know we just met and all, but what’s wrong?”

“You mean besides your injuries?” Arthur retorts, quick as lightning.

“Yes.” Merlin resists adding _obviously_. “What’s wrong with _you_?”

Arthur stares at Merlin uncomprehendingly for a moment. “Why would you even ask that at a time like this?”

Merlin smiles up at him. “Just part of my charm.”

Arthur’s eyebrows rise in the center of his forehead. He looks like he can’t make up his mind whether he should continue to be confused, start to be concerned that Merlin has hit his head and nobody noticed, or move on to being amused.

He settles on honesty and decides to answer the question, though he can’t for the life of him understand _why_ he chooses to tell this unknown man this story.

Maybe he does it because there is something about Merlin that he trusts. Maybe his emotions are running so high with the similarities of the two situations – the one laid before him (literally at his feet) and the one in his past – that he isn’t thinking clearly; maybe he will regret sharing.

Maybe he is simply _done_ with keeping all of it bottled up inside. Whatever the reason, Arthur speaks honestly.


	5. Chapter 5

“...and I couldn’t do anything fast enough and they died!”

Arthur finishes his tragic tale with a choke in his voice and tears falling down off his face to his sleeves where he is still holding Merlin’s arm up out of the mud and water.

Daegal has long since propped Merlin’s left side up out of the water. When he did so, he found the road rash that neither he nor Merlin had seen or felt on Merlin’s left elbow and same upper forearm. Daegal had washed the pebbles and dust out of that ugly scrape, and then he had toweled Merlin’s arm off and wrung out as much of the melt water from Merlin’s wet clothes as possible.

Now the parts of Merlin that are facing up are drying off. This is helping to warm him up a little — he is still wet and exposed to the open air, after all, — but he is less focused on how wet he is and more focused on Arthur’s story.

Elyan had sat down on Arthur’s right once he’d realized the topic of Arthur’s story. He had leaned into Arthur’s shoulder to be a physical comfort to Arthur. They are still sitting like this.

“Arthur, come on, it’ll be okay,” Merlin says. He wants to reach out to Arthur, but he knows he should not move that much. He nails the secondary cause of Arthur’s emotional reaction on the head: “Arthur, I’ll be okay, you’ll see. It’s not so bad. They’ll fix me up just fine. Come visit me in the hospital if you want. I want you to.”

Arthur nods a little, and the minutes of silence that follow are all about comfort from worry.

Once the silence feels calm, Elyan moves away again to see if there is anything he can do to help prepare for the evacuation.

Merlin is the one who breaks the silence. His eyes are urgent, and this frightens Arthur until Arthur hears what Merlin is asking.

“...hair, Arthur?”

“What?” Arthur asks just to be sure he has heard Merlin correctly.

“I said: I want you to brush my hair.”

Arthur can barely decide on a word that makes him sound un-patronizing enough to keep Merlin happy yet expresses his total bewilderment at this request in this moment. He makes a few halted sounds and settles on an inquisitive-sounding, “What would be the purpose of that?”

“I don’t want whoever comes to get me to see me like this, like I’ve fallen down a hill and been buried under a landslide. Just help me look a little more presentable before the Search and Rescue crew comes.”

Arthur is completely baffled. He will do it, of course, but he does not understand why Merlin wants him to do this. It’s not as though these people do not already know that Merlin has fallen down a hill and been partially buried under the shifting dirt of a landslide!

Arthur says, “But Merlin, the helicopter will only mess up your hair again when it arrives.”

“Arthur, I do not care,” Merlin replies. “I want to look as alive as I possibly can, okay? I want to look good so they will take one look at me and think, _“That face is too beautiful to lose.”_ I want them to take one look at me and become determined to do their very best work for the simple fact that they wholeheartedly believe that it would be a crime against everyone who has ever wanted to look upon a beautiful face made up of features like mine for those doctors to deprive the world of this” — Merlin raises his eyebrow to indicate himself since that is the biggest gesture he can handle with his as-yet incompletely tended injuries — “and I would do it myself if I were able, but, you see, I seem to have fallen and hurt myself rather badly, so, if you would be so obliging as to assist me in this—”

“Okay, Merlin, okay, just shut up, will you?” Arthur cuts in. Arthur produces a simple comb from somewhere on his person, and he uses his left hand to put it to Merlin’s head. He brushes Merlin’s hair gently and in short strokes so that he does not cause any pain where it is important that he not do so. He says, “It would not be a shame to deprive the world of your incessant prattling, though.”

Merlin just glares at Arthur for a second. Then he says, “If it were safe for me to move, I would tackle you to the ground right now.”

Arthur laughs and adds, “Please, like you could take me! I would have you in a headlock in three seconds flat!”

Merlin, who has discovered that laughing with his whole body like he regularly does hurts him, blows the lightest puffs of air through his nose as possible in an imitation of his laugh. His grin still shows his mirth and his eyes are still bright. He says, “You know, Arthur, when I get better I intend to put that boast to the test.”

Neither of them has much time to notice the grimace that nearly forms on Arthur’s face at that challenge. — Arthur knows that it is possible that Merlin could lose at least partial use of his arm, and that it is also possible that something in his spine could become agitated in transport and not survive the journey intact. Arthur knows that Merlin knows all of this also, but Arthur is trying his best to keep up a hopeful face for Merlin’s sake. — The trees above them move in sudden and rapid wind. The helicopter has arrived, and Merlin is about to get out of the forest and get to safety.


	6. Chapter 6

“Your friend up on the path chose a very good place to stand and make that sign,” one of the Search and Rescue team members says when the basket first comes down through the trees. “Very visible from the air. Has he done this before?”

“We have some relevant training, yeah,” Mithian answers with a smile. “Ex-military,” she adds.

The man nods. “We were told you found an injured person.”

Mithian nods in response and points toward Merlin. “He’s over there. The one sitting with him is one of mine.”

“Are any of you with him?”

“No, we all came together. We met him after he regained consciousness,” Mithian replies.

The other team member moves over to where he sees Merlin and Arthur on the ground. He indicates that Arthur should stand over with the rest of his group.

“Can you tell me what happened from your perspective?” the first man asks Mithian.

“Daegal, come help me with this,” Mithian says over her shoulder. Mithian starts in on the story, from seeing the landslide to noticing the bit of jacket (which she points out on the hillside). When she gets to the part where they are at the bottom of the hill after climbing down the rope, Daegal takes over. Daegal explains that he has medical training and recounts everything that the team did while they waited for Search and Rescue to arrive. The man tells him that, of him and his partner, he is the team member without medical training. He asks Daegal to repeat everything that he has learned that might be relevant to medical treatment to his partner.

Meanwhile, the medic talks to Merlin and assesses his injuries.

Once all the relevant information has been imparted, the Search and Rescue team decide to cut Merlin’s backpack straps off of him so they can put him on a stretcher. They recruit Mithian, Daegal, Elyan, and Arthur to help with the lift and transfer so that they change the position of Merlin’s back as little as possible. The six of them gently transfer Merlin onto the stretcher. The Search and Rescue team members secure his body and carry him to the basket. They hook Merlin and his stretcher in and lock the restraints in place.

“Hang on,” Merlin says to the medic closest to his head. “To which hospital are you taking me?”

The medic starts to respond, but Merlin stops him. “Wait, don’t tell _me_. Tell Arthur. Arthur!” he shouts, “Arthur, come over here!”

Arthur comes close and the medic gives him the name of the hospital Merlin is to go to.

“Thanks, Merlin,” Arthur says. “See you soon. Be well ‘til I get there.”

Merlin smiles up at him. “Don’t tackle any bears to get in some last-minute practice. They’re dangerously pointy, and I’ll want your best game.”

Arthur grins at him.

The medic tells Arthur and the rest of the group to step back. The medic and his partner hook themselves onto the basket so they can help it avoid tree branches as it rises, and then they radio a “ready” up to the helicopter. The two of them and Merlin are lifted up into the trees.

To the increasingly distant sound of the helicopter slicing through the air, Mithian, Daegal, Elyan, and Arthur gather up the tent canvas, the soaked pack, and everything that Daegal removed from their bags while they were helping Merlin. They then use their rope to climb up the hill.

Once they are back on the path with Leon, Daegal is the first to voice what some of them are thinking.

“So....” Daegal says, “Are we going camping, or are we going back the way we came?”

They all look at Arthur.

Arthur, who just a second ago was looking at the sky in the direction the helicopter went, is now looking at each of them in turn. He huffs out a resigned breath. “I guess you’re right. I know _I’ll_ certainly be distracted if we have our trip.” He sees Mithian nod in agreement.

“Morning hike in, late morning hike out. I like it,” Leon says.

“Back we go, then,” says Arthur.


	7. Chapter 7

Merlin has had his leg set and put in a cast. His fingers are secured and on the mend. (He has been itchy.) His arm has been stitched up. (That part is itchy, too.) He has been questioned, poked, and repositioned by a spine doctor who declared him to be out of danger as long as the nurses help him stretch in precisely the right way every hour and a half for the duration of his stay.

He has been given his own room in which to recuperate. His mother has been in to see him (and scold him, and wrap extra blankets around him). He has watched the heads of people walk by through the little window in the room’s door. He has slept. He has watched and subsequently gathered enough strength of will to turn off a horrible daytime drama that he swears only exists within the walls of the hospital. (What television station would ever stoop so low as to air that monstrosity outside of this gathering place of the truly desperate?) He has counted ceiling tiles.

Merlin has become, in a word, bored.

He is about to push the nurse call button to ask for some jell-o when there is a knock at the door. He looks up to find a slight smile of hesitation on Arthur’s face that says that he is not sure he is welcome after all even though he did make the effort to come and find out for sure.

Merlin waves him in with his left hand.

As the door opens, Merlin sees that Arthur has something in his hand.

“I got a jell-o for you from the nurse’s station,” Arthur says. “They only have strawberry, so I hope that’s a flavor you are willing to eat.”

“I was just about to call for that,” Merlin indicates the package. “I knew you’d come in handy.”

Arthur laughs and brings the snack over to Merlin. Then he pulls the only chair in the room over to the side of the bed and sits. When he is settled, he looks back up at Merlin. Merlin’s face is scrunched up in frustration.

“This would have been much easier with a spoon,” observes Merlin.

“I could get you one, but only if you promise me that you will never again go hiking by yourself.”

“Are you bribing me with a spoon?”

“Perhaps,” Arthur replies, and he can’t quite keep a straight face as he says it.

Merlin pretends to think about it. “Not worth it,” he decides. He puts the open top of the jell-o cup to his mouth and proceeds to slurp out the contents.

“That’s repulsive. Who taught you how to eat?”

Merlin continues to slurp happily at his snack.

“Honestly, though, Merlin, you need to find yourself a hiking buddy.” Arthur pauses as another idea comes to him. “Or maybe you can just get one of those call button necklaces for when you’ve fallen and can’t get up. Would have been right useful in this scrape.”

“Speaking of this scrape,” Merlin cuts in, “Weren’t you and the rest of the group headed off for an overnight trip? You’re here much sooner than I thought you would be.”

Arthur looks a little embarrassed. “Well, we thought we wouldn’t be able to focus on our trip very well without knowing whether or not you were okay,” Arthur explains.

Merlin just stares at him.

“It was Daegal’s suggestion, really,” Arthur defends.

“Thanks, Arthur,” Merlin says quietly.

Arthur pauses. “What do you mean?” he asks.

“I mean thanks for caring. It’s really nice of you. Of all of you. To care like that. You’re all really great people.”

“Oh,” Arthur says; he is at a loss for words.

“You must all have been really great together while you were active,” Merlin adds.

“Well. Yes, we were,” Arthur says, and the confidence in Arthur’s tone fits in a way that makes Merlin feel like something about Arthur’s personality is slotting into place. “But you shouldn’t sell yourself short, Merlin. You’ve been caring and great, too, and you are the one of all of us who had – has – the most immediate and compelling reason to lose track of kindness.” It has been a while since Arthur gave someone a character assessment to their face. He feels a bit taken aback by how sentimental he sounds. “I mean, you’re much braver than you look,” he adds.

“Ha! Oh, Arthur,” Merlin says as he shakes his head. “Only a true friend could be so very blunt.” Merlin’s tone is dripping with sarcasm and his eyes are full of mirth.

“That’s right. And as your very true and most important new friend, I decree that you shall henceforth not go hiking alone. For your own safety.”

“Still on that argument, are we? Arthur, I have been hiking in those hills _countless_ , and I mean countless, times before, and nothing has ever happened before now. This was a fluke. All I have to do differently is actually watch the path that I am walking on. No big deal.”

Arthur pulls out a piece of paper from his pocket and puts it on Merlin’s bedside table.

“This is my phone number. I’ll go with you. Every single time, if I have to, just to get the point across that no person, no matter how familiar with the trail, should ever go hiking alone.”

Merlin sighs. “Alright, I’ll consider it.”

Arthur raises an eyebrow.

“That’s all I can promise for now, Arthur. You’re going to have to deal with it.”

Arthur huffs. “For now.”

Merlin steers the conversation away from the entire rolling-down-a-hill fiasco and he and Arthur have an amiable chat for as long as Arthur is able to stay.


	8. Epilogue

**Four months later…**

Leon, Elyan, and Arthur pull up into the driveway of Mithian’s house. They see Daegal’s car already parked in the drive, and they notice that Mithian has strapped her tall backpack into Daegal’s back seat like she always does. There is an extra bag in the back next to hers.

They go through the side gate and make their way to the back of the house. They can smell the smoke from the barbecue before they turn the corner.

Mithian, Daegal, and Merlin are all standing around the grill chatting away while the veggies and meat sizzle loudly at waist height.

“That smells amazing,” Leon comments.

“Merlin’s spices again?” Elyan asks.

“You know it,” Mithian replies. She points the tongs at Merlin. “One day you will tell us your secrets, Merlin. One day.”

“Arthur already knows,” Merlin tells her. “Why don’t you threaten him for information instead of me?”

“Arthur was trained to withstand interrogation techniques. I would have to do something highly illegal to get anything out of him,” Mithian says seriously.

Arthur puts his hand on Mithian’s shoulder. “And though we know Mithian would be the queen of whatever prison they decided to send her to, she has expressed a desire to... how did you phrase it, Mithian? _“I am never doing anything that could land me in one of those hamster cages ever again,”_ I think it was?”

Merlin and Daegal laugh.

“Arthur,” Mithian replies, “Do be a dear and stop talking, won’t you?”

Arthur’s smile is cheeky, but he goes into the house to get himself a glass of water. When he comes back out, everyone has taken a seat except Merlin. Arthur walks up to Merlin at the grill and says, “Hey, you ready for this?”

Merlin shoots Arthur an exasperated look. “Arthur, _I have already been hiking._ With _you_ , I should add. I’ll be _fine_.”

“And if you’re not, we’ll all be there to help,” Arthur says as though he has repeated the line hundreds of times. “I know. I just thought I’d ask.”

Merlin smiles fondly at him. “Thanks, Arthur.” He points the tongs at the grill. “Now put your skills to use and help me with this food, yeah? It won’t make it to the table by itself.”

And Arthur does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone is wondering, the comb came out of Arthur’s jeans pocket. Also, Merlin’s backpack flew in the helicopter with him and the rescue crew.


End file.
